A pain on my left side roused me from my sleep. I couldn’t remember a time when my mattress had felt so uncomfortable. When I shifted slightly, the first thing I noticed was my lack of a pillow. Opening my eyes, the second thing I noticed was the carpet—right next to my head. I was on the freaking floor. For a split second, I hoped I’d somehow managed to fall out of bed, but I knew that was too good to be true. I had knowingly fucked the thief, after all.

Shit.

Sitting up, wincing from my aching body, I looked around my bedroom. It was completely empty. Forcing myself to my feet, I stumbled to my door. A quick perusal of the rest of the apartment showed that it was empty too.

“Fuuuuuuck!” I screeched, stomping my feet and flailing my arms. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” They hadn’t even left me clothes this time. All I had were the Kmart pyjamas I had on with sloths on them. God, I wanted the floor to open and swallow me whole. I couldn’t believe I’d let this happen again. I knew I should’ve called the police when I found him, but no, I had to be stupid and actually trust that the guy would do the decent thing and give my mother’s hairpin back.

Boy, was I a shitty judge of character.

I couldn't even cry this time. I was so damn angry—at myself and at him—that I couldn’t do anything except pace back and forth, grunting and hissing like some caged animal. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t walk to Alesha’s this time, because not only was I in my pyjamas, but I also didn’t have any shoes. That arsehole!

With my head aching, both from the stress of the situation and the aftereffects of whatever drug he’d slipped me, I went into the bathroom, hoping they at least had the decency to leave me some headache tablets.

When I opened the cabinet, that’s literally all there was. Well, a pack of ibuprofen and an envelope with my name on it.

Picking up both, I swallowed two pills and then tore open the envelope. There was a note, and inside the note, my mother’s hairpin. “Oh my God.” I hugged it to my chest, giddy with happiness from its return. He’d actually come through. He’d done it in the cuntiest way possible, but at least he gave it back to me. I slipped it into my hair for safekeeping.

Confession time: I lied. I was never a Boy Scout. Stop trusting shitty people. Here is your mother’s hairpin. Since it’s the only thing you care about, it’s the only thing I’ve left you with. Have a nice life, duchess. You won’t be seeing me again. N.

P.S Don’t bother looking for me at the gym. I won’t be there anymore.

P.P.S I really do wish things were different. I could get addicted to that snatch of yours.

Somehow, I managed a laugh at the last line. He was probably the most self-centred, arrogant man I’d ever met. Still, I wished things were different too. We had a great connection and could’ve been great together under better circumstances.

Knowing I had to make at least one phone call to deal with the mess I was in, I went next door and asked to use their phone, telling them I accidentally got locked out when I went to check the mail instead of offering the truth. It seemed too ridiculous that I could possibly be robbed again, less than four months after the first time. Although, how they’d managed to move the entire contents of my apartment out twice without anyone asking questions was beyond my understanding.

After my phone call, I returned to my apartment and sat on the floor, waiting for a knock at the door. It came forty-five minutes later, and there Alesha stood, looking perfectly made up for work with a question mark etched into her expression and a bag of clothes in her hand.

“What’s the emergency? Everything O—shit.” She stepped over the threshold and looked around the empty room. “He robbed you again.”

Wincing a little, I nodded.

“Why did you even let him in? Oh no, did you sleep with him again too?”

Full-blown wince.

“Holland.” She put her hands on her hips and looked at me like I was a naughty toddler.

“I couldn’t help it, Leesh. He makes me feel so good. I’m weak. I’m pitiful and weak.”

Still looking around the room, she clutched the leather strap of her handbag at her shoulder. “He must be if this could happen again. Have you called the police yet?”

“I’m not calling them this time.”

“Why? How are you going to replace your things without a police report?”

“I’m going to go get them back myself.”

“I’m sorry. You’re going to do what now?”

“Aunty Maya gave me this tracking card that’s hidden in my handbag. All we have to do is activate it and we can find out where they went. Then we can get a moving van of our own and steal my stuff back.” I shrugged as if the idea wasn’t even a bit preposterous.

“Why don’t you activate the tracker, then call the cops with the location and they can go get it all for you?”

“Because it might be too late then. By the time they mobilise units—or whatever they do—Nate and his thieving helpers could’ve found the tracker and gotten rid of it. We need to move now.” I pulled the clothes out of the plastic bag she gave me and started getting dressed. It was a pair of black harem pants and a too-small T-shirt with Wonder Woman on the front. It barely covered my stomach, and poor Wonder Woman’s face was stretched across my left boob.

“That is the craziest fucking idea you’ve ever had, and I’ve known you for twenty-four years. I survived home bleach jobs, crashing parties we weren’t invited to, and that time you convinced me to write something nasty about Stacey Ryan in the bathroom stall and I got caught by the vice principal.”

“Considering she didn’t even know the difference between ‘your’ and ‘you’re’, I think Stacey deserved every properly punctuated syllable you wrote about her.”

“That’s true. But I still got detention over it.”

“And it made you badass, so you’re welcome.”

Shaking her head, she started laughing. “Of all your crazy schemes, Holland, this by far takes the cake. You’re not seriously going to try to steal your stuff back, are you?”

“Of course. And if I’m lucky, he’ll lead us to where he lives and I can rob him too. It’ll be the perfect revenge. Give me your phone.” With her lips pursed in disapproval, she did as I asked, and I brought up the website where I could log in and track my bag. It popped up on the screen plain as day in an industrial area in Geelong. “Feel like going on a road trip?” I asked, holding the screen out for her to see.

“Only if you promise not to confront him. If we go, we go in there all stealth mode, locate your stuff, and then we call the cops to do the dirty work. I beg you. We are not stealing anything.”

“You are one massive party pooper.”

She took her phone back and placed her hands on her hips. “Considering you need me to drive you to this place, it’s either my rules or we don't go at all.”

With a groan, I rolled my eyes. “Fine. You win. Reconnaissance only.”

She smiled and handed me the pair of black espadrille flats she’d purchased along with my clothes. “I knew you’d see it my way. Now, call in sick to work. We’ve got some thieves to catch.”

Stuffing my feet into the canvas shoes, I muttered under my breath as I followed her to her car. Stealing everything back and robbing him would’ve been the sweetest payback for a man like Nate. But Alesha was right—without her help, there was no way I could do anything. I had no transport and no access to my money to rent a moving truck. Watching him get arrested was just going to have to do.

“It’s self-storage,” I mused as we pulled up to the building the tracking app had sent us to. There were several cars in the parking lot along with signage promising the best rates for self-storage around. “How are we going to know which one it’s in?”

“We can’t know without going inside. And I really doubt they’re going to let us go walking around in there on our own. It’d be a maze. Plus, I’m pretty sure we’d be trespassing, and I’m not paying to rent a storage unit just to give you a reason to snoop. I think this might be where the cops need to be called in.”

“I suppose.” I pouted, disappointed that we hadn’t arrived in time to spot Nate unloading my furniture from a truck. We could’ve caught him and his accomplice red-handed—and it wouldn’t have hurt to watch their muscles bulge as they carried some of the bulkier items while we waited for police assistance either.

Just as Alesha started keying in the phone number, movement in the entry caught my attention and I grabbed her arm. “Oh my God. Look,” I gasped, lowering in my seat. A group of four men laughed and messed around, looking completely carefree as they headed towards an SUV parked in the lot not far from us. One of those men was none other than Nate the thief. Another was the brother I’d seen at the gym. I’d never seen the other two before, but they all had similar builds and features, leading me to believe they were all related. The Cartwright brothers. The girl at the gym had gone to school with them. It made sense.

“Wow,” Alesha breathed, her jaw dropping as we watched them larking about. “That is too much hotness for one group of men.” She slipped her phone into her pocket.

The SUV they walked towards started its engine before they’d even gotten to it. “There’s a fifth person,” I noted as they all piled into the car.

“Another hot guy, I hope.” She craned her neck to try and see through the tinted windows as they pulled out of the parking lot.

Is she drooling?

“Follow them,” I insisted, leaning over and pressing the button on the dash to start the car.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel, and then she put the car into gear, but we didn’t move anywhere. “Wait. This is crazy. Call the cops, Holland. Give them the plate number and let them handle this.” She handed me her phone.

“OK, I will. But please, Alesha, they’re getting away. Just follow them. I only want to see where they go.”

She stared at me a moment then released the parking brake with a sigh. “Fine,” she said, pulling out and following the SUV into traffic. “But we call the cops the moment we see where they go.”

“Of course.”

People often called watching TV a waste of time, but this was one instance where all that television watching finally paid off; because of spy shows like Burn Notice, we knew to keep a couple of cars back at all times, and not change lanes unless there was an exit coming up. We followed them like pros.

As I expected, they led us to the city I’d found him in: Torquay, a city synonymous with surfing and beaches. It was pretty much a straight shot down Surf Coast Highway until they turned off on Combes Road, then took an immediate left onto Jetti Lane.

“Shit, keep driving,” I told Alesha as we watched them turn.

“Why? We could lose them.” She craned her neck but drove on like I asked.

“They just turned into a lane—a lane. That means dead-end street. If we followed them straight in, they’d notice.” I kept my eyes on their car for as long as I could before it disappeared around a bend. “Chuck a U-ey up here. We’ll double back and park before the bend.”

“And do what?”

“Look for their car on foot.” It felt like an obvious next step.

“I don’t know. I really think we’ve narrowed it down enough. We could call the cops now and be done with it.” She indicated, then turned into their street despite her protests.

“Call them with what information? They’re hiding stolen goods in one of hundreds of storage containers, and we think they live on Jetti Lane. We need at least one thing specific, Leesh. They’ll never even know we were here.” I really wanted to see where they went. We were so close.

“All right,” she said, trepidation in her voice as she parked on the side of the road. “But give me back my phone. I’m keeping the emergency services number on my screen in case things go bad.”

“They won’t. Reconnaissance only. Trust me.”

She hit the power button on her phone enough times to bring up the SOS slider. “Doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” she said, slipping the phone back in her pocket. Then we got out of the car and looked around the long gravel road lined with towering eucalyptus trees. Cicadas sang their ear-piercing excuse for a song against the midday sun.

“Their car went that way,” I said, squinting towards the bend in the road.

“OK. Let’s go find out what kind of place a group of sexy-as-sin thieves like to gather at.”